Monaco Bay Weyr - GalleriesThe Galleries consist of a multitude of rows, cut into the rock of this vast cavern. The heat here is stiffling any time of year, but the breeze coming in through the open roof high above makes it bareable. Sheltered from the coast's weather, this cavern looks out into it but rarely experiances any of it. Stairs lead down to the Commons Cavern, from one side, while at the back of the galleries there is a passage way leading out to the treetop dwellings. Far to the other side of the galleries are several stairs leading up to the multitude of ledges where the dragons and riders view the hatching.The cavern has gained the added illumination of daylight, filtering down from above, but from this angle, the majority of the light still comes from the multitude of papercovered electric lanterns that cast their cheerful warm colors on the galleries and the rest of the cavern. Springtime has arrived on Eastern Weyr, the flowers budding with wild abandon and all about new growth of the jungle seems to be the theme both in the animal and plant kingdoms.

It's a rather late evening that finds Brohdan curled up in a corner of the galleries, knees pulled up to his chest, arms tucked loosely about them. He's dressed as fits the occasion, in somber black and blues that blends him into the cool semi-dark of the empty stands. Though the worst has been cleaned, there's still detritus here and there, remnants of the hatching that happened only hours before. Had it even been today? It feels like eons since that last brown found his lifemate, leaving the last of Half Moon's eggs dead on the sands, or at least it does to Brodie. The memory makes him sink deeper into the seat he's occupied, shoulders hunching up around his ears as he peers more-or-less towards where Monaco's eggs still linger, waiting.

While Brohdan has managed to change into somber clothes, it seems that in the intervening hours since the hatching, Wendyn has managed nothing of the sort, for she is still wearing that white robe she so recently wore upon the sands - A robe that is now, however, far less white. Where the young woman has spent the last few hours - with her brother and his bronze departed with the last unfortunate egg - no one can say for sure, though given the dirt on her clothes and body, it was likely some out of the way corner of a dusty store room. Yet - there is only so long one can hide, and as a candidate there are limited ways to drown one's sorrow - and so it seems she has crept back out of hiding - and to the hatching caverns to perhaps cheer herself up with the eggs that yet remain. And so, she lingers only a few steps in, near the bottom of the seats, biting her lip as she considers the clutch as yet on the sands.

It's not surprising, perhaps, that the empty galleries would fill with candidates, after a relatively traumatic kind of…morning. Morning adjacent. Wearing impressive bags under his eyes and a slouch that suggests either exhaustion or some sort of existential sadness (both, both), Ityrziel slinks along the rail. Pajama-clad and looking freshly bathed, the harper candidate pauses for a while to eye the dragons still there thoughtfully for a while. If not for the inquiring warble of…concern? Irritation at the not-alone-after-all? from the starry blue curled tight around his neck, Tyr wouldn't have noticed that he wasn't alone, either. Brohdan, nearly invisible further along, gets a long look — distracted, quickly enough, by the shuffle of Wendyn's arrival. Tyr's not smiling, tonight; his expression is tense, bordering even on bitter as he settles somewhere between the two others. It takes a long beat and the little blue hiss-chirping at the candidate for him to speak up, voice rough and likely barely loud enough to carry. "Do you think the dragons care if we're here?"

Brohdan's eyes tense, and for a moment it seems as though he's disinclined to engage with his fellow candidates. It's been a long day - longer for some of them than others, judging by the state of Wendyn's robe - and sociability is the last thing on his mind. And yet… he's human, and as much as his mind tells him he wants to be alone, some part of him yearns for the solace inherent to mutual commisseration. So he unwinds his long, heavy form, finds his feet, pads barefoot to bridge that distance between them all again, to settle on Wendyn's level but closer to Ityrziel perpendicularly, making a soft noncommittal noise that's little better than a grunt. Frown. A second try. "Doubt it. Haven't before, have they?" His voice is raspy when not engaged in his usual shouting, blue eyes dull as they move over to Wendyn. "Haven't been back to the barracks?" It's not a difficult guess, given her state of dress, but it's better than long, sullen silence, right?

There are voices - and it is then that Wendyn's attention is pulled from the sands, pulled from the eggs, and shifts to first Tyr and then Brohdan as her fellow candidates make their presence known, and there is a brief, awkward half-smile as if she tries to manage a greeting before she sighs, face falling once more, shaking her head. "I.. I couldn't." She finally offers after a moment, though Tyr's question does cause her to glance over her shoulder at Szetamarith, shaking her head after a moment. "I mean… Why would they." Shifting, she pulls her legs up underneath her, tugging the robe to tuck it around her. "My brother isn't back yet, and I.." Maybe she thought she would find him here, instead.

Tyr's doing some shuffling of his own, propping his feet up on the level before him to curl up on himself, linking arms around knees. He doesn't take his eyes off of the sands, though they don't seem to stick to one part of it, roving back and forth anxiously. "I meant, considering…" The harper can't seem to bring himself to continue that thought, seems to regret voicing it, mouth snapping shut abruptly. A quick glance sideways to Wendyn prompts a scrunched-up tragic kind of look, concern or more worry dragging eyebrows down as he sqints at the be-robed candidate. "I haven't seen him. I'm sorry. He, ah, he's here somewhere? H'wro said." Tyr murmurs, after a moment, eyes dragging back to the eggs. "I…" A long pause, but the thought is lost, and he shrugs, shoulders hunching.

Brohdan's lips press back in an expression of understanding, chin dipping in a series of slow nods. "I understand. I was there only long enough to change, myself. It's… strange, like we don't belong there. Especially with some of them moving out…" Seeming to realize he's rambling, Brodie shuts up, shooting Ityrziel a somber look before rolling his shoulders in a shrug. "I guess someone will tell us off, if they don't like it." He hasn't seen A'she either - intimates as much with an apologetic twist of his features - but his gaze lingers on Wendyn anyways, humming under his breath before he says, "I didn't realize he was your brother, honestly. Not until someone said it today. Are you from Half Moon, too? I don't think I've ever asked…" He seems to be grasping at straws, seeking any avenue of conversation that will steer them towards something else, even for a moment. It's Ityrziel's abandoned question that does it, that finally ruins his attempt, presses a blanket of sobriety over his features as he wonders quietly aloud, "I wonder if they could feel it." The eggs that are left, he means. "If they could feel the collective…" He can't quite find the words to wrap that up.

"I.. I don't know if I do." Wendyn offers after a moment, before she shrugs, pulling a leg to her chest and resting her chin on her knee. "He.. He tried to search me for those eggs. I.." And she just shakes her head again, not able to finish her thought, before she shakes her head again, only answering the question after a moment, voice quiet and the single word possibly lost in the oversized cavern. "Igen." Brohdan's question forces her eyes to return to the sands, as she considers it, tilting her head to rest an ear on her knee instead. "Do.. you think they feel each other?"

Tyr twitches a little, caught; this, then, is something that's been bothering him, maybe. "It's so strange, to see the baby dragons. They're so small. It does feel…" Shoulders twitch, and the harper tears his eyes away from the sands to contemplate the gloomy ceiling above. Evidently, the rocks don't provide any sort of answers, so he lets it pass, head tilting minutely sideways to rest against the firelizard still curled onto his shoulder. Face scrunching up in chagrin, Tyr tilts a little to favor Wendyn with a stricken look. "You couldn't have known, though." He tells her, sincere. "Not any of it." The question of the eggs' awareness, though, catches him — Tyr sits straighter, hunches forward to stare intently at the sands, eyes a little wider. "It. That. That wouldn't be good for them, would it? You're supposed to be…calm, around baby dragons?" The candidate ventures, voice going up an octave. "Well, they — they could feel us? Maybe they can. Maybe they have each other." Maybe he's trying to look on the bright side, but look.

Brohdan considers Wendyn's initial statement for a long moment, gaze flicking over her once, and again, making up in attentiveness whatever it lacks in intensity. "Me neither. But then, that's how I've felt these whole months long. Like this has been one long… sham. Like even if there was an egg for me, a dragon for me… Maybe it was that one?" And now none of them will ever know. Darkened blues shift towards Ityrziel, lingering there with a small smile that speaks more towards being totally out of his depth than anything close to amusement. "I don't know. That's my worry, though. What if they're… affected. What if they're sad? The dragons didn't seem to know something was wrong until it was too late… I wonder if it will happen to them, too." Seeming to realize his thoughts are spinning out of control, that his voice is quivering in betrayal of rising emotions, Brodie pushes to a stand, pacing along the railing for a moment in an attempt to keep it from becoming overwhelming.

"I.. I know what you mean." Wendyn offers with a soft sigh, watching the spot where Seyu and Trix's eggs were so until so recently. "I.. It happens, though, right? I mean.. The others from the clutch, they.. they seemed to be okay, to find their people." Of course, she has been avoiding the barracks, so who knows if that assessment is correct. As Brohdan moves to pace, she lifts a hand as he goes back, to offer a pat or a brief touch at whatever part of him - if any - she manages to touch. "I.." And she sighs, wrapping her arm back around her leg.

Tyr stares hard at the shadowy shape of the clutchparents — down in numbers, now. He's quiet for a long stretch, gaze turning inward, blanking a bit. "Those weren't for us." The harper says, at length, completely without any sort of proof. After all, one did Impress to one of them, rather than a Half Moon candidate. "We don't know what happened, either." Even Ityrziel doesn't sound like he's so sure of himself, here, eyes dropping to his knees before shifting over to Wendyn. "It does happen, even when…" They don't have to be taken between in an emergency capacity? Yeah, he's not saying that aloud. "They're fine. Sleeping, when I left, mostly." He confirms, because it should be said, and maybe that's just going to have to be enough: the Weyrlings that there are are fine. Theoretically. Brohdan doesn't look so fine, though, and Tyr turns to him, too, mouth opening a few times. "I…don't suppose we'd know. They seemed fine, didn't they?" The candidate eyes the distant shape of the eggs for a beat. "Dragons don't remember long. They'll. They'll be okay." He tries, voice relatively even.

If it weren't for Wendyn's touch, it's possible Brohdan might have paced on and on, content to let logic smack into the maelstrom of emotion and serve only to make it a bigger storm. Shoulders have hunched, hands have tightened to near-fists, but that… that brings him around in some patentedly human way, steps slowling to a stop before he finally looses a sigh and a low, "You're probably right. And if it's not okay… we'll keep on going." There's a quiet moment as he stares out at the eggs again, lingering on each before shaking his head and turning away. "It just all became real so fast. Anyways. I haven't eaten since…" He literally can't remember when, shrugs limply into the absence of time. "So I'm going to now. You're free to join me, if you wish." He flicks Tyr a smile that doesn't quite hit his eyes, finally returns Wendyn's gesture with a passing press of one hand to her shoulder, if she'll allow it, and then makes for the exit, head bowed in thought.

"I guess.. I guess we will all be okay." Eventually. Maybe not immediately, but, eventually. Wendyn watches the expressions that cross Brohdan's face, offering him a flicker of a smile as he pats her shoulder. "Try and get some rest, too.." She offers, trying to keep her voice level. "They'll be up early tomorrow." Because babies. Stretching her legs out slowly, she tilts her head, watching Tyr, gaze flicking after Brohdan as he departs, eyes turning back to Tyr to see if the other candidate joins the first - though she makes no move to encourage or discourage it.

Tyr's not so quick with the physicality — he keeps his arms linked tightly around his legs, doesn't seem like he intends to move from that position. "That's all we can do, isn't it." He agrees, one shoulder lifting listlessly. "Make sure to drink lots of water. Healer's orders." WHICH healer, he doesn't divulge, but look. They've had a long day. One hand unlinks to lift, waving Brodie off vaguely. "Careful." Tyr settles quickly, though, squishing his knees back to his chest and glancing sidelong at Wendyn. "We will. Your brother will, too, although…I can't imagine. He's lucky you're here." That gets a ghost of a smile, at least, head tipped sideways. "To keep him distracted." You know, like a barracks full of other candidates and a metric ton of weyrlings won't?

"I.. I guess." She offers, before biting her lip and eyes linger on the sands. "I.. I am glad he is here, too. I don't know.. I don't know what he would do.. What -I- would do, if he was still at Half Moon and.. this happened." Though, who knows if it would have happened, if they had stayed at Half Moon. "I mean, I am sure he will find plenty to distract himself." All these creature comforts that candidates don't get. Eyes remain on the sands, and she shakes her head a little. "I.. I hope the next time goes better." And the time after that, if necessary.

Eyes fixed firmly on the sands, Tyr hums, shoulders rounding. "Faranth," The candidate murmurs, somewhere between alarmed and outright terrified. "It's not…it didn't happen that way, though. They're all here. Most of them made it just fine." He sounds more like he's trying to comfort himself, there. A beat, then: "Did you come from Half Moon, originally?" Voice on the small side, Tyr ventures, gaze twitching up and sideways, then back down to the sands. The eggs get a long quiet, after that, and the harper scrunches himself further into his slouch. "They will." Sound a little more convinced, there, bud. "They were fine. We…we saw them, they were all fine. Right?" Not that he has a frame of reference, here, mind you, y'know.

"I.. I guess we can't change anything. It has all happened and that's that and.." She rambles a little, before finally taking a moment for a long breath, shaking her head as if to clear the thought, eyes glancing back to Tyr. "Igen…. I.. It's not like I have lost my home." There is that bit of positive in this at least. "Not like all those people." The people who have been filling in the empty spaces at Monaco and finding new roles in their new lives. As Tyr crouches, Wendyn shifts a little, leaning in his direction but making no move to invade his space. "They were fine. I'm sure they were all fine."

Tyr nods, after a beat, smiles ruefully at the other candidate. "No, we can't. We couldn't have…helped in the first place." He doesn't actually sound like he's sure of that, brows creasing, but also the harper can't come up with how they might have. A huff of relief, and Tyr nods, gaze falling again. "No. It was still there, last I checked." The vaguest attempt at humor falls terribly flat, not that he actually seems to notice, squinting at either his toes or the sands, below. "They'll…adjust. We did, didn't we? More, ah. Willingly, however." The harper's expression scrunches up, again, as he tips a shoulder sideways in a friendly kind of way. "I hope they don't know. That they won't remember, even if they do. The…new ones, or the eggs. Both."

"I just.. feel so helpless. Everything is just.. going on. Going on like nothing is different, but things -are- different. Things.. will never go back to how they were." At a personal level, at a larger level, or on a planet-wide scale. A soft huff, and she shakes her head a little. "I.. I don't even know if they really like, even remembered us, though. From day to day. Everyone says they don't remember, not without their lifemates to remind them. And.. maybe everyone will just be.. too tired to think about it." Everyone who is down with the newest dragonets that is. Falling quiet for a moment, she whispers after a moment. "I.. didn't know Brohdan could be.. quiet."

This, Tyr contemplates for a long beat, eyes shifting back up to the golds and bronzes protecting the remaining eggs, down there. "I suppose…you just do, maybe? After a while." After you spend the day in a daze and then get no answers from the dark sands, at some point, presumably? Tyr doesn't sound so sure, here. "Faranth, I can't even understand how it happened. Their sands. Much less what all their people will do." A beat. "We can't do a lot, though, can we?" The candidate heaves a pretty heartfelt sigh, natural Drama creeping in as he scuffs a bare toe on the next-row-down seat. "I'm sure that the Weyrlings will be." He agrees, something like a smile lurking at the edges of a grimace. "For a while, anyways. Long enough, I hope." The quieter statement gets a slight widening of the harper's eyes, and he nods, once, glancing after their fellow worriedly. "Don't…tell him, but I didn't like it. Seems wrong."

"I.. I don't know what to think. A'she said so much but.." Pausing. "I trust my brother, but I.. How would anyone guess that's what would happen. I still don't know what even really happened. And now.." A hand waves absently at the sands, even as it stills as his voice drops and she doesn't turn to follow his gaze. "It.. I'm worried about him." She admits after a moment. "I.. I am sort of worried about all of us." Though she has been hidden, so perhaps some of the others are fine. "Do you think we can.. do anything for him?"

Tyr sighs again; quieter, this time. "I don't imagine they could have guessed. Not A'she, not anybody — how would they? Maybe…no, there's no knowing, surely. That your heat source is just going to disappear?" The harper frowns at the shadowy shape of dragons, purses his lips, head shaking. "I am, as well." He admits, barely above a whisper, like he can't quite bring himself to admit the concern. Doesn't want to give it a space to grow, maybe. The last, however? That gets a slight straightening of the harper's spine, a narrowing of eyes that's not quite so defeated. "I think we can." Tyr murmurs, thoughtful. "You know him better, though. Maybe…we can help spruce up their weyrs?"

As Tyr straightens, Wendyn seems to consider this, pondering, mouth opening and closing. "We.." And then she is tensing, swiveling and glancing towards the entrance. "I.. I'll think about it. Trix.. Trix and A'she are back." She offers in a rush, even as she is slipping off her bench, hesitating to give one more glance at the sands, before she offers rather solemn nod to Tyr, leaving her fellow candidate to his thoughts as she scurries out to find and comfort her brother - and likely seem some comfort for herself.

Tyr follows the glance; eyes widening, the harper nods, once. "Be careful, it's dark." He repeats, lifting a hand after the other candidate, too. "My best to your brother." The harper adds, quieter, as he settles back down into his slouch. In it for the long haul? Well, until he gets hungry, at least.